Sleeping Screams
by tloyc2012
Summary: Alex is obsessed with Jeff the Killer. One Halloween night, he decides to turn his tradition of cosplaying as Jeff every halloween into something else. Alternate, longer summary inside. Oneshot.


JEFF THE KILLER

Sleeping Screams

SUMMARY

Alex is obsessed with Jeff the Killer – _Obsessed._ He's made his own youtube documentary, has his own custom Jeff costume that he'd worn since he was thirteen, even built custom Lego minifigures of him.

He's gotten so obsessed he creeps his own parents out. He has no friends at school except his brother. Everyone calls him the 'Jeff Fanboy' – Even his brother.

Years of this has changed Alex. He's delved so deep into the internet that nothing, not even Slender Man, scares him at all any more.

Now, he's finally started to crack. His Halloween tradition of cosplaying as Jeff the Killer is going to be turned into something else, as Alex seeks to make it more _realistic_ – Going as far as to permanently carve a grin into his face.

His parents can tell he's not all there any more, could even before this, but now they've unintentionally created a monster – They had given him the internet, full access, when he was five, and he'd found out about Jeff when he was seven. They had encouraged him to make a costume, to avoid spending money.

But they never expected him to take it this far. And now, Alex has done the worst.

* * *

Alex sighed as he browsed the internet, searching for a new story to read about. After three minutes of the same stories – Slender Man, Smile Dog, the Tails Doll – he shut his laptop and decided to get some fresh air. Then, he remembered.

_Tonight's halloween!_

Tonight was the night he got to put on his Jeff the Killer costume again. He loved Jeff the Killer – The scariness of the whole thing, the idea of a boy going insane (he himself wasn't all there, either) – He had several Lego Minifigures of Jeff, one of which (his favorite) was completely custom textures.

Opening his closet, he pulled out the white jacket (stained with fake blood) and black pants (again stained), the fake knife, and face paint. He loved this costume – He'd made it himself, after all.

Because of this obsession, however, he had no friends at school. His brother didn't count. His own parents found his obsession disturbing. Everyone called him, mockingly, the Jeff Fanboy. Some even went as far as to call him the Jeff Fan_girl_.

Years of mocking and loneliness had shaped him into a loner with a temper so short he could blow up and punch someone simply because he was called a fanboy.

His sense of humor had been warped as well – He laughed at tragedy, even in real life. He laughed when a boy at school got hit by a bus, laughed when he heard the driver had been sent to prison.

Usually, he could be found staring out his window into the forest just past his backyard. He loved trees – Dead trees, especially. He loved it when he got to see leaves fall from the trees, yet neither him or his parents, or even his brother went to get rid of them.

His own parents often locked him in his room at night, for fear he'd go insane and kill them. He didn't care. It just gave him an opportunity to read. Write. He loved writing Creepypastas.

As he stared at the fake knife, he thought of something. He normally acted as if it was all real, and then said it was a joke when he got candy. Why not make the acting more realistic? Why not use a real knife? Why not make the blood real?

Opening his window, he threw the knife out it. It flew across the street and cracked a window of a house on the other side of the road. He chuckled, and walked downstairs, ready to begin.

His parents, luckily, were at work, and his brother – Who had just gotten a job at the local Burger King – was away as well. Perfect! He walked over, moved the cutting board out from in front of the knives and took a large, sharp, serrated cleaver.

Then, the nightmare began. Laughing, he ignored the pain as he carved, knowing he'd be able to smile forever once he finished. He took his father's lighter from the garage and lit his eyebrows, and waited until he couldn't blink to douse the flames.

No bleach was on hand, unfortunately, so he cut himself and let the blood flow, only bandaging it when he was nearly bloodless. He felt faint, but ignored it. His hair was already dark black, perfectly capable of blending into the shadows.

Taking his white jacket, he put it on along with his costume's black pants, pulled the hood over his head and waited.

* * *

When his parents finally arrived back home, it was to their son standing outside, in his Jeff costume, holding a bloody cleaver. His face was shrouded by the hood of his jacket, but blood streamed down from his face.

John, Alex's father, immediately put two and two together. Telling his wife to stay in the car, he got his pistol out. The second he was out of the car, Alex lunged at him. Firing the pistol, he shot Alex in the knee. Falling to the ground, Alex looked up at him, his hood falling off his head, the moonlight illuminating his face.

His horrible, horrible face.

Black dots replaced the light blue pupils that his parents had once loved, his unblinking eyes rimmed with black – Seemingly burn marks – and a feral grin, stretching from ear to ear, replaced his mouth. His skin was deathly pale, and his long, black hair was tangled and fell down into his eyes.

"Hello, _father,_" he said, jumping to tackle his father to the ground. "Alex! Stop!" His mother, Lily, cried out, staring in horror. Chuckling, Alex turned his head to look at her. She gasped at the sight of his face.

"My name's not Alex..." He turned back to his father, who had his cell phone in his hand, ready to call the cops. "_Shh!_ Don't you know people are sleeping?" He said, batting the phone out of his hand.

He put the cleaver to John's throat.

"Alex..." He said, his eyes wide. "Why?"

"I've already told you, my name isn't Alex." He whispered the next words into his father's ear, while sliding the cleaver across his throat. "_It's Jeff..._"

He watched the blood flow, crimson shining in the moonlight. His father's skin turned a bloodless white color, and his eyes rolled up in his head. Alex began to laugh, as a true, insane smile formed on his mutilated face. Turning back to his mother, he said the last words she would ever hear.

"_Go to sleep..._"

As he watched his parents' bodies be found by the neighbors, their skin bloodless, their faces adorned with the same beautiful smile he had, he laughed.

* * *

Later that night, his brother Tim rolled around in his bed, attempting to get rid of the images of his parents' faces. He knew who had done it.

_They were your parents too, Alex! Why..?_

_Why had you killed them..?_

Then, he heard the sound of the door creaking as it opened, and he froze. He hoped – _Prayed _– it was his uncle coming to check on him, but to no avail.

"Awake yet, brother?" His brother Alex said, chuckling. "Still asleep? I'll have to change that.."

Tim felt the pain of a knife sinking into his back, over and over. Gasping, he looked up at his brother, his insane brother.

"Why..?"

Alex didn't answer for some time. Then, he chuckled.

"It was _fun._"

As Alex- _Jeff_ raised his knife, Tim opened his mouth to scream.

"_Shh... _Don't you know it's time to sleep..?"

END


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